360 spit. And the first explosion, because the police office was so near Front Street, nearly threw him out of his chair. " They must-er used enough that shot to blow up the town," he said. Miss Lucy Mayhew, chief operator for the telephone com- pany, lowered her bony, sallow-skinned right hand after taking the oath, and smoothed the black, lustreless silk of her dress. The prosecutor asked her questions, and she answered them in a low but distinct voice, impersonal as though it were coming over a wire; she did not lift her head when she spoke, and her hands, now and then, patted and smoothed the silk. She fixed the very minute when she had first heard a tramp- ling on the stairs up to the telephone office, for she had just looked at her clock. It was twelve-thirty o'clock, she said. Four men came in, bursting in all at once, and they had white cloths on their faces and pistols in their hands. One of the girls screamed, she said, but she herself, she stood right up to them as good as she could. She wanted to know what their business was. "And what did they say?" the prosecutor demanded. " They said, Ladies, we hate to bother you, but we just got a little private business in town, and we don't want anybody to be making it public.'" She smoothed the silk, and her brow wrinkled in thought. "At least, that's as good as I can remember what they said. So we got back from the switch- board." "Did they offer you any violence?" "They waved those pistols some/' she said, "but they didn't point them at us. One of them—he looked like the captain or something, because he had a white bandage on his coat sleeve—he just said for us to come downstairs, and he took me by the arm. And two of the other men, each one took one of the girls by the arm, and one of the girls started pulling back, and he said,' Lady, you better come on down or you'll miss something bigger'n Christmas.' They took us downstairs, and the man with me held my arm going down like any gentleman would a lady's."